


The Longest Night of the Year

by jjtaylor



Series: Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency [12]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Referenced Major Character Death, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21972430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjtaylor/pseuds/jjtaylor
Summary: Written for akamine_chan, who wanted to know how the Midnighters celebrated winter solstice.For ongoing plot concerns, this story takes place somewhere after Spin the Wheel of the Year and Single and Double Knot Crossing the Reigns, but before The Tower and the Arena.(You can read and enjoy without knowing what any of that means.)
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/5766
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105





	The Longest Night of the Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akamine_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/gifts).



The winter solstice was a little like New Years had been when Frank was a kid. Staying up until midnight was alluring, forbidden; all of the lights on in the house when it was pitch black out. Everyone’s celebrations lighting up the night. 

On the solstice in the Midnighter communities, everyone partied in the full darkness. Everything went pitch black from the moment the sun was down until the very first rays of dawn. 

Even those who weren't nocturnal came out for the Midnighter new year. All torchlight were doused, carriages forbidden from the roads, and every single house had its windows dark. Even with Frank's excellent dark vision, it was something to behold, the world with no light pollution, no bright glares. Just darkness, and everyone's faces, bright whites of eyes and teeth. 

Gerard, as could be expected, got super into it. The Way Family tradition was to dress everything in black – people, tablecloths, furniture, sheets, towels, food. Everything went maximum goth. 

“Which one looks more black to you?” Gerard asks, holding two suits up for Frank to assess. “Should I turn the light off?” 

“Maybe,” Frank says, squinting. 

Gerard snuffs out the sconce. “Oh, wait, the light's on in the library,” he exclaims, and sure, there's the faintest glint coming from down the hall where the electricity runs, but before Frank can say he doesn't think it will make enough of a difference, Gerard rushes off. Abruptly, their bedroom is fully dark. Gerard returns, suits flapping like capes behind him. 

“I guess...the one on the right?” Frank says. They're both almost indistinguishably black, enough to make Gerard wearing them disappear into the absence of light. 

“Excellent,” Gerard says. “Do you pick yours yet? 

“I have one all black suit,” Frank says. 

Gerard's mouth goes wide with shock. “Why didn't you tell me!” 

“Because one is fine?” 

Gerard sighs in exasperation. “Tell me what color you want for the spring equinox and I'll have someone get right on it.” 

“Uh,” Frank says. “You can pick.” 

Gerard looks delighted. 

“You know,” he says, “That makes me think of the werewolf ball.” He leans close. “The first time you were my date.” 

Frank sucks in a breath, remembering the way Gerard had pressed him up against the wall and insisted that Frank agree. How they'd been fighting, about Gerard and his secrets, and how that night had been the start of everything crumbling down. 

He kisses Gerard to chase the memory away. 

“Are we going to dance tonight?” 

“If the music's right,” Gerard says, kissing Frank once, and then again, and then once more.  
  


Once the house is dressed in black and everyone going out is dressed for the night, Gerard and Frank and Dewees each take a floor, and they turn on every light in the house. All the electric lighting, all of the candle sconces, the lanterns, the fire places. Everything. The house is bright and hot and it's intense and that's the point. Mikey, who has gone ahead to help with the extinguishing of their neighborhood street lights, had already lit his contribution of a blood red novena candle just to be blown out and left it on the sideboard outside his bedroom. 

“Ok,” Gerard says, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Brian, I think we're ready.” 

There's a hesitation, and Frank worries that they've blown a circuit, or set something on fire. 

Greta's disembodied voice rings out, instead of Schechter's, “Hang on, he's thinking.” 

“Brian, it's almost sundown!” Gerard urges. 

“You do it,” Brian says, appearing from his office. Greta is behind him, holding two lit candles like swords and she's about to challenge him to hand to hand combat. 

“What?” Gerard says. “Brian, no.” 

“You do it. I bet you can do it this year.” 

“I can't - ” 

“It's your house, Gerard,” Brian says softly. “Here, I'll count you down to sunset.” 

The lights are blazing against the darkness falling outside the windows, and the reflections make the light even more wild. 

“Five, four,” Schechter counts. “Three, two, one.” 

For a moment, Frank thinks it won't work. And then they're all swallowed in darkness. 

Frank whoops, and Gerard gasps. 

“See?” Schechter says softly. 

“I can't see anything,” Dewees protests, and, as if in demonstration, he crashes into the nearest table. 

“It's ok, James, just follow my voice,” Greta says. “We'll have to work on your navigation.” 

“That was incredible,” Gerard says breathless. “It was like doing magic.” 

“It was something very close to magic,” Schechter says. “You were drawing on your connection to the house. It listened.” 

“Wow. Wow it's fucking dark,” Gerard says and laughs ecstatically.  
  


Gerard apparently has untapped near-magical abilities, but he does not have night vision and it fucking delights him. On the winter solstice party, he peppers Frank with questions 

“Frank, what is that? Is that a Blind Order box? Are we still on Cemetery Drive? It looks so different. Oh, I should have brought my constellation book, look at all the stars.” 

“You didn't bring your book because you can't read in the dark.” 

“But you can! We could be stargazers.” Gerard grips Frank's arm like this is the most romantic idea he's ever heard. 

“We can stargaze after we get some mulled wine.” 

“Oooooh,” Gerard says, “That sounds amazing. I'm freezing.” His fingers poke out from his black fingerless gloves and he sticks them down Frank's neck. Frank shivers as he shoves him away. 

One of the best things about the solstice celebration is that everyone walks everywhere. No traffic, no carriages, no bikes, no will-o’-the-wisps on skateboards. There are no invitations needed to parties, no dress requirements. Most people dress in black for the fun of it, for the fun of blending in, but every once and a while you'll see someone in a red coat, or silver sparkly boots, and they stand out like a ghost. 

Even the Transitional Zones go dark, and the borders of the neighborhoods blur together. Night comes at the end of every day, but this night stretches on. 

Fairy traditions, however, remain deeply secretive. There's a change of court and a change of season, and they go silent for a week, four days before and four days after solstice, and the borders come out of the interval visibly changed, as if a new homeowner has redecorated. Frank's always been curious, but he also likes the idea of the secret, of it being something unknowable. 

The Werewolf Howling Chorus rings out as they approach Decaydance Mansion. Pete's isn't the only party but it starts the earliest and goes the latest and generally has the best snacks. 

“Hey,” Pete says, greeting them on the front steps. “Only a half moon tonight, and cloudy. The only times I really care about the weather are solstice and Halloween. Though it's pretty cool when there's thunderstorms on Lughnasa.” 

“You can just say you like to get naked in the rain,” Frank says. 

“I mean, obviously,” Pete agrees. 

Frank catches sight of several of their friends dancing to the bouncy music of a saxophone and a snare drum. Tonight is beautiful and soft and he feels safe and quietly content. 

Without warning, Frank remembers that Gerard had been killed last winter solstice. 

He keeps walking along with Gerard through the crowds but his hands go numb, his mind static. Panic is clawing at his chest. The werewolf ball because that was as close as his mind could get to the actual solstice. He barely remembered any of it, certainly not the celebration of darkness. Not even the absence of it – simply the absence of Gerard from the world and the serene warmth of the greenhouse, the only place Frank could tolerate being for weeks. He barely remembered that winter, only snapshots: Dewees shoveling, Greta bringing him blood he couldn't taste. People coming and going, bringing condolences, gifts, normal business continuing. But Mikey was gone, Gerard was gone, Schechter was in some kind of stasis, and Frank, like one of the plants, had simply wintered, too. 

Gerard had died, but he was right here now, holding Frank's hand, grinning at him, face so close in the dark exclaiming about the smell of roasted nuts in the air, talking about what they could make for breakfast tomorrow. 

It's cold, especially without the warmth of a bonfire to gather around, but there's a little bit of snow on the ground in crunchy from the icy rain and whenever the moon peeks out from the clouds, it sparkles, like a prism in the sun. 

Gerard had died, just before sundown. Only a year ago.  
  


The rest of the night passes in a blur. They meet up with Mikey and then head off in different directions. They see Lindsey and she and Gerard get into a discussion about historic garland traditions before Jamia beckons her away. They greet and hug and laugh with their friends, and Frank is thankful his freakout goes mostly unnoticed amongst all the merriment. Eventually he and Gerard circle back around to the Way Mansion, their breath making wispy white clouds in the cold. 

“You okay, Frankie?” Gerard says, as they take off their coats inside. “Did you get too cold?” 

“Last solstice,” Frank says, because if anyone would understand exactly how lost he's feeling, it would be Gerard. 

“I know, Frankie,I’ve been thinking about it, too.” Gerard confides. “Come on,” he says, taking Frank’s hand and leading him toward the greenhouse. 

“You were always here, weren't you?” Frank says, voice shaky, as the humid warmth wraps around him. The achingly familiar sound of the susurrations of nocturnal plants unfurling and the soft trickle of water. “You said you heard me, when I talked to you. When I cared for the greenhouse. When I tried to pull the house together.” Frank's rambling, the tangle of his thoughts coming undone in a rush. 

“I did,” Gerard says earnestly. 

“You're here, so why I am – why does it feel like we're back there?” The house is quiet, and while he hadn't connected it consciously before, that's what this solstice is reminding him of. That awful quiet. “I wasn't the one who died.” 

Gerard takes Frank's hand, looks at him close. “I'm here now, Frankie, but I did leave you, and it did leave a mark on your heart.” Frank lets Gerard pull him into a hug. 

After a long time of just resting in Gerard's embrace, Frank says, “I really liked the solstice celebration. It was beautiful. I'm sorry I – got all caught up in the past.” 

“It's good to remember that we got here because of everything we went through. Oh!” Gerard exclaims, and Frank startles, but his tension dissipates when Gerard says, “The midnight candy phlox!” Gerard rushes off toward the south side of the greenhouse. “It’s supposed to smell like your favorite nostalgic candy the first time it blooms. What’s your favorite candy, Frankie? I think mine is those root beer barrels, or maybe the ones that look like strawberries.” 

Gerard bends down, nose practically pressed to the flowers. The white blossoms look like stars, and Gerard looks ethereal, in the throes of joy inspecting a magical plant in the middle of the night. 

“So what does it smell like?” 

“Licorice starlights,” Gerard says dreamily. “I’d forgotten about them. Come on, tell me what it smells like to you!” 

Frank gives the plant a cautious sniff, and then inhales more deeply when the sweet scent wafts up. “Candy raspberries,” Frank says, once his brain slots the memory into place. “The ones with like a syrup inside.” 

They stand there, grinning at one another. Frank thinks of the magic Gerard had done earlier, extinguishing the lights of his house. Their house. A dazzling tenderness suffuses Frank, in such contrast to the agitation he’d felt earlier. In the middle of the dark of the greenhouse, with the stars bright above them and the bats passing high in the deep blue sky as dawn begins it's slow stretch awake, Frank kisses Gerard, hands in his hair, in reckless abandon. 

“Love it when you wear your three-piece suit,” Frank murmurs against his ear. 

“I do look good, don't I?” Gerard agrees. 

“I wouldn’t want to wrinkle,” Frank says, smoothing down the jacket. 

“So take it off,” Gerard says, eyebrows raised. 

Frank does take Gerard's suit off, right there, and he takes his own off, too, and they touch each other reverently, in the dark of the longest night of the year.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Longest Night of the Year [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21973390) by [Pennyplainknits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennyplainknits/pseuds/Pennyplainknits)




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